The Fishbowl Vignettes
by samirant
Summary: It's simply a series of small steps that change friendship into love. Originally written after Season One.
1. The Grown Up Table

A/N: The Fishbowl Vignettes were written three years ago, after the first season wrapped up. They remain some of my favorite pieces of writing to date, so I'm finally transferring them in from my LJ account. They were originally posted out of order (just for fun) and feature things that are decidedly noncanon now. Even so, I hope you enjoy them.

Fishbowl Vignette I: The Grown Up Table

The pile wasn't very big to begin with and, if Betty's expression was any indication, Daniel should have started hoping for a miracle hours before.

"What about… Corrine McArthur," Betty said slowly. She flipped through her binder until she found what she was looking for and turned the photograph over. "Sarah Lawrence, Art History major, very environmentally-minded, could be considered _noveau-riche_, but your mother may not mind when she sees the rest of your options."

Daniel peered closely at the photo. "Well, she doesn't look familiar, so that's a plus. She's pretty."

"Corrine's been working overseas with Greenpeace for the past five years, if you're wondering how she's slipped through the cracks," Betty replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Greenpeace?" Daniel wrinkled his nose. Betty frowned.

"You're not really going to blackball someone because they care about the condition of our ozone layer, are you?"

"No, but I might if she turns out to be a crazed bushwoman."

Betty waved the photo in his face. "Does this look like someone who hugs trees on a daily basis? She's wearing Armani, for goodness sake."

"Just noting my caution," Daniel said defensively.

The photo landed on the sparse 'maybe' pile with a sharp slap under Betty's palm. Scolded with only a glance, Daniel wiggled uncomfortably in his chair. Betty responded by putting her binder aside and grabbing the container of curried chicken on Daniel's side of the desk. He moved to protest, but it took one sharp look to keep him silent.

"Well, what about this one. I like the look of her." Hoping to get back on her good side by being a bit more proactive, Daniel pulled out the photo and pointed at it. "Why was she disqualified?"

"Bridget Maxwell," Betty mumbled around a bit of chicken. At Daniel's quizzical look, Betty added, "October 2006."

"Was she featured in the magazine or something?"

Betty rolled her eyes. "That and in your bed."

"Oh." Daniel stopped short and looked the photo again. "That would make sense then."

"Daniel, it's late and I'm exhausted. Could you please make a decision so I can go home?" Betty dropped the carton on the desk and Daniel grabbed it before she could reconsider.

"I can't help it if nobody's caught my attention yet. And can you imagine the look on my mother's face when I show up at the opera tomorrow night, dateless? Again?" Daniel took a large bite and spoke around it. "She'd be _thrilled_."

"I'm still surprised that you're even going to the opera," Betty said back. She dropped her chin into her palm and gave him a bored look across the desk. "Fourth time in three weeks."

"That many?" Daniel paused to mull it over. There was the first time, when he'd fallen asleep, which had led to his mother demanding a second go around. Lather, rinse, repeat – twice – yeah, that would make this the fourth time. "It's just so… boring."

"The opera is not boring, it's beautiful," Betty said in that way of hers that was supposed to the end the conversation. Then again, Daniel couldn't say anything without the strong possibility of whining, so she'd succeeded by default.

He kept on eating while Betty reopened her binder and showed him the remaining candidates. They were disposed of in short order – Betty's annoyance increasing all the while – until the 'no' pile was much thicker than the meager 'maybe' selection and shed harsh light on the fact that the 'yes' stack was nonexistent.

"It's my own fault," Daniel finally said on a long breath. He threw the empty carton into the garbage can beside his desk. "The manwhore days are coming back to bite me on the ass and there's not a woman left in New York willing to give me a chance."

"Gee, Daniel, keep talking like that and I might think you have a tendency to be overdramatic."

Daniel glared. Betty smirked.

"I don't see them lining up these days. Do you?" Daniel gestured widely with his arm. "What happened to the masses? The fan clubs? Life was easier back then."

"Nor was it particularly fulfilling, Daniel." Betty paused when he gave her an unhappy look. "What? I'm just repeating what you've said yourself."

"And your timing, as always, is excellent. Could I have just a little bit of sympathy here, Betty?"

"For what? Nostalgia over the days where you enjoyed no-strings…relationships and weren't sure with whom you'd spent the night over the past week?"

"Hey, I always knew who. I just wasn't always…sure about… where," Daniel replied.

Betty dropped her head to one side and regarded him with a sad smile before finally saying, "Daniel, you've been keeping a low profile for a while now. You can't expect things to go back to the way they were… before. And I can't imagine why you'd want them to."

"I like to think of it as a gentler, simpler time," Daniel said wistfully. At the look on Betty's face, he shrugged and added, "Rose colored glasses, I suppose. Look, all I need is one date so my mother can get off my back. Are you sure that these are our only options?"

"Of course they aren't," Betty admitted. "To be honest, I can name one right now-"

"Betty," Daniel said warningly. It was the mere tone of her voice that gave it away.

"Marianna calls almost every day," Betty said earnestly, but quietly.

Daniel swallowed and purposely turned his head from facing Betty's. "There's no future there," he said tightly.

She wanted to push, Daniel could sense that easily enough, but Betty knew many things and one of them was to know the point of when to let go. Rising from the table, Betty gathered the various photographs, combining both piles into the rejections they had been all along. Daniel dumped the rest of their takeout containers and waited until Betty had shredded the files before speaking again.

"Sorry for wasting your time. I know you wanted to get home hours ago." He pulled on his jacket and took a deep breath. "Maybe I'm just expecting too much."

Betty approached him and smoothed out his wrinkled lapels. "I think you're expecting the right amount; you just have to be patient until it comes along."

Daniel smiled down at her. "You know, having you around is like having this permanent little cheerleader Betty, right here" – he pointed at his left shoulder – "constantly waving pompoms and yelling 'Go, Daniel, Go!'"

She grinned back. "Is there an Evil Betty on the other shoulder?"

"Oh, there's no such thing as an Evil Betty," Daniel replied. They shut off the office lights and made their way to the elevator. "An Evil Betty would be a sign of the apocalypse."

It was only when they'd stepped into the elevator that Betty took a deep breath and, in a rush said, "I really want you to be happy, Daniel."

"I know that. And I appreciate it," Daniel replied as he pressed the button for the first floor. They smiled at each other again and – if he wasn't absolutely positive Betty would cry and if they didn't have more than forty floors to descend – Daniel would have told her that as long as she was around, he was pretty sure he would be.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are lovely.


	2. Double Singles

A/N: Reviews are amazing and so appreciated. Thanks.

Fishbowl Vignette II: Double Singles

Betty Suarez was never late.

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true. There was that one time with Justin's recital, and another when Ignacio was getting sick all over the place and she had to stay home, those did happen. But Betty always called, emailed, sent an SOS, anything to let Daniel know as soon as possible. So the fact that she'd disappeared for two hours? That had him worried.

And, of course, _disappearance_ was also a bit over the top, because Amanda claimed to have seen Betty in a nearby park just after lunch. Just sitting there, she'd repeated when Daniel asked for clarification. When he asked if Amanda knew why, she'd just given him this _Are you kidding me?_ look that he really should have seen coming.

So now here he was, hands deep in coat pockets, wandering around a tiny Manhattan park shoved in between sky highs, searching for his assistant. It was like a different world from the moment he'd emerged from the busy sidewalk traffic, from the hustle and bustle to a quiet little square that went largely ignored by everyone else. As he perused the naked tree branches and tiny mounds of leftover snow and heard the crunch of salt underfoot, Daniel wondered if he'd ever seen it before; and just like that his search became an exploration of a different sort. This wasn't exactly protocol for an editor in chief, but then again, when had he ever quite fit the profile in even the smallest fashion?

Before he could contemplate that for very long, Daniel caught sight of Betty's slumped figure on a nearby bench. It was still cold enough outside for her powder blue parka and it engulfed her almost completely, revealing only the top of her head. Daniel tugged his own coat closer around himself and approached her, watching for any signs of life. All he found of that were the white puffs of breath escaping Betty's mouth and the slow upward sweep of eyes when he drew near.

"Hey," Daniel said when they're gazes met, "I've been wondering where you were."

"Hi," Betty replied dully. There was a sharp snap and Daniel noted the broken twig in her hands. She broke the pieces in half again and then threw them onto the salted stones before her. "Sorry I didn't call."

"That's not really an issue," Daniel said slowly. He indicated the bench beside her and Betty shrugged noncommittally. Once he'd sat, he asked, "Everything all right?"

"Define 'all right'."

Daniel shook his head. "Okay, so not a good question. How's this: what's going on?"

"Well, it's a beautiful day," Betty said after a short pause. "And I thought to myself, this is a good day to sit outside and enjoy the weather and maybe feel a little bit better about breaking off my engagement."

Daniel sat up straight. "What?"

Betty sighed. "It's off. No marriage for Betty. Alert the press. I bet they'll be shocked."

"But what happened?" Daniel stared at her. An idea occurred and it must have shown immediately on his face. "Wait, he didn't che-"

"No, nothing like that," Betty interrupted. She settled more into her coat and kept her eyes away from his. "It doesn't really matter anyway. It's over and that's it."

"No, no way." He shook his head again. "When have I ever not cared about this stuff, Betty? Especially when it'd affect you like this?"

Betty smiled tightly and shrugged.

"What in the world happened? Three hours ago, you were excited about going to the print shop to look at invitations. How do you get from there to here?"

"There's a sidewalk?"

"Betty."

She heaved another sigh and sat up. "I don't know, Daniel. I thought I was. Excited, I mean. But then…" Betty dropped her head forward. "I was just looking at all those invitation samples and I started thinking that in the last two months, I couldn't find the right church or the right flowers or the right dress-"

"But Vera loves you, she already promised-"

Betty's pained expression stopped him short. Daniel's mouth shut quickly and Betty pulled her eyes from him again. "I was midway through the fourth book, past hundreds of pages of calligraphy and flowers and embossment, all of them absolutely gorgeous, when I realized that none of them worked. And none of them were going to work because on each page I was trying to put my name with his and… and I didn't want it."

"Oh."

"I told myself that I was being ridiculous," Betty said faintly, "but whenever he pointed something out, it just felt more wrong. And the more I turned down, the more frustrated he got and we ended up having a huge argument right there in front of the sales guy. Then I just blurted it out, said I thought I might not be ready and he just… left. He just left me there."

She didn't say anything else, just dug a little further into her coat. Daniel watched her for several seconds before saying, "Wow, Betty. I… I'm really sorry."

"Me, too," she replied quietly.

Searching for words proved to be difficult and Daniel stared off into the distance as he scrambled inwardly. Hundreds of black-coated businessmen, fur-adorned socialites and brightly dressed young adults scurried by on a far away sidewalk. He watched them for several minutes before he gave in to his only thought, the only one that made any sense in his post-Marianna world. "Well, at least you know now, right? Before anything else happened?"

"I guess."

Daniel leaned back where he sat and bit his lip. The tree behind them did its best to overshadow the bench and the sunlight that filtered through did little to warm him. His cheeks began to sting from the cold and he wondered at how Betty could have possibly stood the low temperatures for more than a few minutes.

"I just feel…numb," Betty said, answering his question as if she knew the moment it had crossed his mind.

He looked over at her and nodded. That feeling, Daniel knew; he felt he'd known it far too often in this lifetime and it wasn't something he would wish on someone else. The cloudiness was familiar, where functioning took three times the effort and thinking even more. And Betty was a thinker.

"Between the two of us, romance is really getting a bad name," Daniel mused.

There was a glimpse of a sardonic smile on Betty's face, but it was gone just as quickly. "Maybe we're just not cut out for it."

"Hey, the Betty I know doesn't say stuff like that," Daniel said back.

"That Betty's unavailable for comment, would you like to leave a message?" Betty asked with mock brightness.

"Yeah, tell her to get back here, this new Betty could be a real drag," Daniel replied.

"I'll let her know. It might be a while, though."

Daniel glanced over; Betty stared straight ahead. He wondered if she was staring at the people on the pathway or something else entirely.

Finally, he added, "Well, I hope it isn't long, for both our sakes."

When she didn't say anything else, Daniel slumped lower on the bench to match her form. And despite the cold, they sat together for a long time afterwards, until the shade covered them completely and it seemed everyone in New York had passed them by.


	3. Prelude

Fishbowl Vignette III: Prelude

There was a flurry of moment visible through the window, shadows darting this way and that, figures going in several directions while the one at the center remained motionless. Daniel figured he knew who it was and felt a small – a _really_ small – twinge of guilt.

Never mind that, a tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him, because this was something she'd had a long time coming.

He glanced back at the car, looking so out of place on a well-worn street in Queens with its smooth lines and gleaming windows. The driver had stayed by the back door and Daniel briefly entertained the notion that this might take a while, but selected to be optimistic instead. Deciding it was now or never, he rang the doorbell.

Ignacio opened it almost immediately; if someone claimed that a man could never _glow_, Daniel would only have to take a quick photo and he'd have solid proof.

"Dad, who is it?"

"Come in, come in." Ignacio motioned with his hand, but made Daniel stop before he got very far past the threshold. "It's a surprise, _mija_."

"Oh, God, Dad, I don't think I can take anymore of those tonight," Betty's strained voice came back from the living room.

Though Ignacio tried to hold him back, Daniel patted him on the arm and went forward anyway. "Well, I may not mark high on the surprise scale, but I hope you'll be pleased anyway."

"Daniel?" Betty was still coming into sight. "What, is Mode having a party in Queens tonight? OW! Christina, I'd like to keep my skin, thank you!"

"Well, if you'd stopped wiggling, I might not be any danger to your precious hide." Christina said back sharply.

The two women were too busy squabbling to look up, but Hilda and Justin both gave Daniel wide smiles as he came into the room. Feigning confusion, Daniel asked, "Now what's going on here?"

"Christina's gone insane," Betty snapped before finally looking over at Daniel. Her expression quickly went blank and she stared for a moment before asking, "Why are you wearing a tuxedo?"

"I think the question is: why are you wearing an evening gown?" Daniel replied.

Betty slowly looked from face to face in her living room, taking them all in as the realization began to dawn. "Oh, you've got to be kidding."

"Betty Suarez-"

"_You set me up!_" Betty exclaimed to the room at large. She pointed an accusatory finger at her father, Hilda, Justin and then Christina. "Oh, it's just a dress I wanted you to try, Betty. I think it'd look fabulous, Betty. _It's just for fun, Betty_."

"It is for fun," Ignacio cut in. "And would you let the man say his piece?"

Daniel gave them a loud, put-upon sigh and started again, "Betty Suarez, I'm here to take you to the opera. And, yes, you were set up."

Betty's mouth dropped open. It was sweet in its own Betty way.

"In the near dozen times my mother has forced this upon me, I have yet to find anyone in all of my acquaintance who is genuinely interested in the thing," Daniel continued when it was clear she was still too surprised to speak. He moved a little closer and pulled out the little bunch of flowers he'd hidden under the coat that covered his arm. Presenting them, he said, "You'll have to forgive that it took me so long to see that the one person who's been urging me to go from the beginning is the one I should have invited in the first place. So would you do me the honor of joining me tonight?"

Betty's face began to melt, moving slowly from astonishment to sweetness, and Daniel knew he'd said exactly the right thing. "That… this… Daniel, I can't believe…" she trailed off.

"Take the flowers," Justin hissed from beside her.

Betty took them. The small cut of wildflowers looked more natural in her hand than a dozen roses ever would and Daniel grinned when Betty took a quick sniff and smiled widely. "They're lovely. Thank you."

"So what do you say?" Daniel prompted.

She looked embarrassed to have not given an answer. "Yes, of course. I mean, I guess I'm already dressed…"

"Great! I'll get these," Hilda announced. She took the flowers out of Betty's grip before she could react and said, "Justin, the hair."

"I'll get the camera," Ignacio piped in.

They all flew into action, so aggressively that Daniel had to take a few steps back so Christina could attack the hemline in earnest, Justin stuff Betty's hair full of bobby pins and Hilda carefully apply makeup while dancing around the others. There was a brief tussle when Hilda tried to remove Betty's glasses, but Daniel quickly snared them and handed them back.

"Wouldn't be much use if you couldn't see anything, now would it?" he asked, though Hilda loudly noted her disapproval.

"Thanks," Betty replied gratefully.

Ignacio nearly made them go blind from the repeated camera flashes, mostly because everyone insisted that they have their own poses with Betty. Though Betty began to complain of seeing only spots, Daniel insisted on getting one of just the two of them dressed in their matching eveningwear; Justin briefly returned the flowers for a couple of photos and then ran off to put them in water.

"I don't think they'll even make it to my room," Betty said mournfully.

"I'm sure I can find some more," Daniel said reassuringly. He winced as Ignacio took another picture and held up his hand. "We'll be back in a few hours."

"You kids have fun," Ignacio replied brightly.

Betty shook her head as she they walked down the front steps and toward the car. "I can't believe you did all of this."

"Well, it wasn't much. Christina put most of it together," Daniel assured her.

"No, I mean… I really needed something like this." He let her get in the car first and Betty waited until the driver had closed the door before speaking again. "These last several weeks, with everything that happened… I… I haven't been feeling much of anything and now I feel… so much."

Betty laughed at herself. Daniel couldn't help but chuckle with her.

She grew solemn though and gave him a long look. "I just mean, thank you. Thank you so much, Daniel."

"You're welcome," Daniel said back. "Though I have to say that this goes both ways. You get a night like tonight and I get a comrade-in-arms against my mother."

"Don't trivialize it," Betty said seriously.

"Excuse me?"

Betty put her hand on top of his. "You've come so far, Daniel. A couple of years ago, nothing like this would ever have even crossed your mind. The fact that you're doing it says so much about the man you've become. So don't trivialize it. Not when it means so much for each of us."

The words struck deep and Daniel took a moment before turning his hand to squeeze hers. "Well, we know who I have to thank for that."

Even through the darkness in the car, he could see the blush rise on Betty's face. Daniel grinned and declared, "I think this is going to be an amazing night."

"Yeah," Betty replied happily. She accidentally jostled her hair and a few tendrils slipped out. It made her look even better. "It really is."

********************************************************************


	4. Get a Clue

Fishbowl Vignette IV: Get A Clue

He was pretty sure they were going to have a homicide in the building before the day was out.

On any other day, it'd come out in a fashion like that mystery board game: Daniel Meade, in his office, with his stapler, the heavy one. Victim: Pain-in-the-ass contributing writer for the February issue, Ned.

_Ned._ The man was actually named that. Who in the world named their kid Ned?

But as the day went on and the story unfolded on the other side of the glass, Daniel was starting to place his bets elsewhere.

Betty Suarez, at her desk, with a tchotchke, the really loud, colorful one. Victim: Pain-in-the-ass Marc.

She'd brought it upon herself, really, with all the yelling and screaming she'd done at the Knicks game the evening before. Give the woman courtside seats and she turned into a verifiable nut job, obsessed fan, complete with foam-finger glove, trash talk for the passing referee and screaming at the opposing team. Loss of speaking ability for a day or two came with the psychosis. And when your job centered around the phone most of the day, you had to get inventive.

Even if that meant Marc had to help you out.

"Now I know you want edgy, you want hip, but I think if we go back to the classic roots of love - or courtship, have you - we'd reach out to a different facet of the Mode woman."

Daniel thrummed his fingers along the desk as Ned chattered away. When the man finally reached a pause, he remarked, "That's all well and good, Ned, but we run a company that thrives on sex and, well, sexiness. Going back to mash notes and candy hearts isn't going to do much for circulation."

"All I'm asking for is a page or two, not even that," Ned insisted. "Just a throw back so women can remember, if for a moment, what it was like to get wooed instead of seduced."

"Wooed?" Daniel asked skeptically.

"You know, wooed, as in-"

"I know what it means, Ned. I'm just indicating my waning interest in this conversation, not that I had much in the first place." Daniel sighed. This was not nearly as interesting as the goings on at Betty's desk. Marc was happily answering the phones while she opened mail and glowered at him. It was a lucky break that Wilhemina was willing to give him up for a couple hours, but it was clear that his assistant wasn't seeing it that way.

Marc and Betty both reached for the phone at one point (Ned was, crap on a stick, _still talking_) and scrambled for it before Marc said something – no doubt scathing – that left Betty fuming. It was funny to see her feathers ruffled no matter how many opportunities for such arose.

After the phone was dropped back on its cradle, Marc began to reach for the envelopes and was stopped short when Betty wielded a letter opener in his direction.

Daniel hid a smile behind his hand and looked over at Ned. The man looked back so hopefully, Daniel finally shrugged and said, "I'll look it over, all right? That's all, I won't promise anything more and you have to agree to give it up if the article isn't worth more than two minutes of my time."

Ned held the copy protectively to his chest. "You promise?"

"You have my word," Daniel assured him.

"I really appreciate this, Mr. Meade. You have no idea how much-"

"Ned."

"Yes, right, I'll, uh, wait for an email. Thank you so much."

Daniel waved him off and dropped the sheets on his desk. He had no idea why he was giving the man such a hard time; Betty had mentioned something along the same lines the other night when they'd worked late. It was just that Mode was the kind of magazine where you had to dole out the sweetness carefully and sparingly; it'd be instant death if they turned into some kind of drippy competition for Good Housekeeping or, heaven forbid, Cosmo.

Maybe it was because Betty said it and dispensed of the ass-kissing all around. Who knew?

Once Ned was gone, Betty entered his office with a scowl and a notepad. Daniel smiled back and waited until she took the recently vacated seat to say, "Looks like you're having fun out there."

She glared.

"I never would have bought the extra ticket if I knew this would come of it," Daniel added. It was a bald lie and they both knew it, so Betty huffed out a dissatisfied breath. "Oh, come on, it's a little funny."

Betty actually started to look a little evil.

"Right," Daniel said suddenly. He passed her the second copy of Ned's article. "Tell me - ha, sorry – let me know what you think of this. And Betty?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Try not to kill Marc, will you? Wilhemina might have a replacement in two seconds flat, but the blood would be hell on the carpet."

With a little humming nose that was neither here nor there, Betty took the article and started thumbing through it. Daniel took the original and started doing the same; at the two minute mark, he was still interested and making notes, so maybe Ned was doing something right after all.

It got syrupy in a few places, with the attention on how a simple hug or note in a lover's voice was all a girl needed to feel a good chill, but Ned had always been a solid writer and it showed. Daniel indicated some changes with his pen; nothing major, but the article was showing better chances of getting a page in the layout. Betty certainly seemed enthralled and, while she was by no means the standard Mode girl, Daniel knew that meant something.

"Daaaniel?" Marc's voice grated slightly on the intercom. Daniel winced and asked, "Yes?"

"Your next meeting is in two minutes, so you might watch to scootch Little Miss Queens out of there."

Betty and Daniel exchanged an exasperated glance, but Betty stood and handed back the article. Across the top she'd written:

_Sweeter than our normal Valentine's piece, but won't alienate the readers. You'll get good responses for the editorial page if you want them._

"Just what I was thinking," Daniel replied, satisfied. "Two pages?" Betty nodded in agreement. "Let Ned know."

"Mr. Meade, your two o'clock is here," Marc sing-songed into the intercom.

He expected for her to groan, but that wasn't enough for Betty this time around. Her voice was scratchy and hoarse and far fainter than he'd ever heard it, but Betty clearly said, "Do you really care that much about the carpet?"

When Daniel didn't answer, she waved her away her own question in the universal sign of 'never mind' with a possible flick of 'I'll plot Marc's painful death on my own time and away from company premises', but Daniel didn't notice.

He was far too alarmed by the way his heart had jumped when Betty had spoken.

***************************************************************


	5. Common Knowledge

Fishbowl Vignette V: Common Knowledge

_She knew._

Squeezing the champagne flute in his hand almost to the point of fracturing the thin glass, Daniel ducked behind a column and closed his eyes. There was a brief moment where he was convinced that he hadn't hidden in time, but then Betty's voice faded off into the distance and he slumped slightly against the cool stone. How he could pick her out in a crowd of over a hundred partygoers mystified him, but in cases like this Daniel was thankful for it. The way things had been going, he figured he knew what would come next in the predictable sequence of events.

When you got a call from a girl – _the_ girl – saying she need to talk to you and I'd-rather-say-it-in-person-Daniel, that was a bad sign, right? Everyone knew what came next.

He didn't want to believe it, but the first thought in his mind was also the most sound. And for a guy who'd never been turned down easily by a woman – hell, at all, if you didn't count Sophia's little foray into shock journalism – Daniel wasn't looking to change that. Especially if it was Betty saying, "Look, you're a great guy, but…"

Yeah, he'd dodge that if he could.

Daniel went to take a sip of his champagne only to discover that he'd already finished off the contents. A passing waiter barely noticed the quick exchange as Daniel dropped off his empty glass with one hand and picked up a full one with the other. He knew he was caught, however, when he heard, "I always knew you were a closet case."

He finished off the glass before giving Amanda a tired look.

"Hiding?" Amanda looked him over before offering the champagne bottle he'd only just noticed she was carrying like a particularly precious child. Daniel held out his empty glass and she spilled some more champagne into it.

"Only out of necessity," Daniel said solemnly before taking a long drink. Amanda toasted him back with the bottle and then took a deep swig.

When she was done, Amanda replied, "Big shindig, plenty of chances to rub elbows with the fabulous and you're hiding in the corner… yeah, makes perfect sense, Daniel."

"It's been a long week," Daniel replied tightly. Week, weeks, month, whatever.

"Well, we carry on, just as fashion demands," Amanda said grandly. She tapped the bottle against his glass with a _clink_. "More?"

"I'm good." To prove it, he set his glass on a nearby table. Amanda shrugged at him and returned the bottle to the cradle of her arm. "I don't see you schmoozing out there with the best of them."

"Well, there's this guy, from Project Runway? He's been on my tail since I got here."

Daniel furrowed his brow at her. "When did you start considering that a bad thing?"

Amanda's single lifted eyebrow put his attempt at skepticism to shame. "I can't be available all night. I'm letting him miss me a little." She shook back her hair and sighed. "Betty's looking for you, by the way. I caught her twice on the floor circuit and she insisted I tell you if I saw you."

"I'd heard, thanks."

He had kept his face averted from Amanda's, but Daniel still saw her head tip to one side on the periphery. His stomach was already sinking slightly and it bottomed out when Amanda announced, "You're acting weird."

"Long week," Daniel repeated.

She made a face at him, clearly catching on to his evasion and annoyed by it. "Fine. Whatever. Heaven forbid you treat me like a friend, Daniel."

Spinning on her heel, Amanda began to walk away. And by what he could only claim later as alcohol and insanity mixing together to urge him on, Daniel called out, "Amanda, hold on."

Though she stopped in place, Amanda only looked back over her shoulder. Of all things constant in the world, Daniel could always count on her to strike a pose, even when she was upset with him. It eased him, strangly enough.

"I just can't seem to think straight lately," Daniel muttered. Still surprised by the fact that he was saying it to Amanda of all people, he reclined against the column again. He crossed his arms and fiddled lightly with the soft fabric of his jacket. "Everything that made sense has gone completely upside down and I have no idea how to turn it right."

Amanda turned around completely and watched him for a moment before asking, "Would it be worth it?"

Surprised, Daniel glanced over. "Will what be worth it?"

"Changing it back." She stared at him intently and he gave her serious expression a half smile. "I mean it's not easy making things like they used to be and, a lot of the time, things change for the better anyway. Eventually. Maybe."

With a wry smile, Daniel asked, "Is that so?"

"Daniel, I'm on my second bottle of Dom Perignon, you're going to have to go with that brand of logic," Amanda chided him. "The fact that you're talking to me about this is blowing me away enough already."

He gave her a quizzical look and Amanda rolled her eyes. "You're not known for taking anyone into your confidence. Except Betty, of course."

"Yeah, well, Betty's-"

"Special, yeah," Amanda cut in. She moved closer and joined Daniel in leaning against the column. After several seconds, she nudged his side and said, "If you feel like spreading out, you could tell me what's really going on."

Whether it was with or against his better judgment, Daniel finally said, "I've recently… met someone." Seen her in a whole new light. Realized what was always right in front of me. Recognized how blind I've been. _Met someone_ pretty much covered it all.

"Ah," Amanda murmured.

"And it came completely out of nowhere, or at least I'd like to think it did." Daniel grimaced and considered how to keep it general. "But the fact is that it won't happen. For several reasons, but mostly I can't see how she could possibly be interested – now or ever."

With a thoughtful expression, Amanda said, "Well, this does seem to be more of a Betty sort of problem" – Daniel nearly choked – "but I can give it a try. Sweaty hands?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Daniel replied with a very quiet chuckle.

"Heart pounding?"

"Painfully."

"Breath catching?"

"Yep."

"Standard signs, but it could just be lust," Amanda mused aloud while crinkling her nose. She must have seen something in his expression because her own softened. "Or not."

"I never knew it could be more than that," Daniel answered, "but it is."

It was rare to see Amanda so completely guileless, but her voice was the gentlest he'd ever heard when she asked, "It is, isn't it?"

Eyes aimed squarely at the floor, Daniel took a deep breath and said, "It goes deeper… she… with her, I feel… whole. Like I didn't even know I was missing a piece of myself until she locked right in."

"Are you sure she doesn't feel the same?"

Daniel nodded silently.

"Absolutely sure?"

Was he? He could only shrug restlessly.

"Well, you're not going to get many answers hiding away in corners with your ex," Amanda said wryly.

"This isn't… I'm sorry, is this uncomfortable?" Daniel asked awkwardly.

Amanda smacked him lightly on his upper arm. "Ancient history, Daniel."

Still concerned, Daniel asked, "Really? Because we can drop it."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if I was still into you," Amanda paused thoughtfully, "or sober."

For first time that night, Daniel grinned.

"Once upon a time, you did make me feel that way, but…" Amanda shook her head. "You never made me feel whole. I always wanted something more, something… I don't know. No offense, but I don't think you were enough for me."

"None taken," Daniel said honestly. Still grinning, he added, "Power hungry bitch."

"Always," Amanda replied with a smile. "But now it's time for me and Mr. Dom to take another round. Want to come with?"

Daniel scratched at his head and sighed resignedly. She was right in at least one thing – hiding wouldn't do him any good. It was simply putting off the inevitable, even if it killed him a little. Or a lot. "Ah, I should find Betty. Thanks, though."

Though she'd begun to leave, suddenly Amanda hung back. Daniel emerged from behind the column and when Amanda caught his eye, she said, "You're a great guy, Daniel. And this whole second person making you whole thing? That's pretty big. I don't think it's something you can just let go of."

"I've started to discover that," Daniel said grimly.

"She might care." Amanda shrugged. "You never know."

Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly very uncomfortable in his own skin. "Believe me, the one thing I know here is she's out of my league."

"Then that's something you'll have to work out on your own," Amanda replied. When Daniel didn't say anything back, she gave him a little wave and walked away.

He wasn't alone for more than ten seconds before he saw a dark head of hair moving in his direction. Too numb, too tired to move, Daniel waited as Betty drew closer. And to his great displeasure, she gave him a wary smile when they were finally face to face.

"Hey, I found you." Betty bit her lip and Daniel really, really wished she wouldn't. "And you're not talking to me."

"No, I am. Of course I am," Daniel said hurriedly when Betty's face tugged down unhappily.

"Someone told you, didn't they?"

Confused, Daniel asked, "Excuse me?"

"I wanted to tell you first, I really did, but I couldn't find you and now you're mad." Shoulders slumping, Betty stared down at the floor.

This wasn't anywhere near what he'd expected and Daniel had to mentally rewind before saying, "Okay, I have no idea what's going on so let's just start from the beginning. You were looking for me… for what?"

"Richmond didn't tell you?" Betty asked nervously.

"Richmond? Head of advertising for Meade, that Richmond?" Still picking through the tone of her voice, to the way his heart wasn't ripped out and smeared all over the floor, Daniel realized he'd been quite off the mark in avoiding Betty's confrontation.

"He offered me… an apprenticeship," Betty said slowly before composing herself. "Nobody told you?"

"Richmond offered you an apprenticeship," Daniel said flatly. "That's what you wanted to tell me."

"Yeah," Betty replied with a puzzled nod. "He really liked my suggestion for a Hudson layout and he's been looking for someone new and he picked me. I didn't even apply and he offered it to me."

Taking his utter surprise for something much worse, Betty quickly said, "It won't take cut into my working for you, really, I mean, it's a fantastic opportunity and it's for Mode, too, for all the magazines in the company and it's a huge leap-"

"Betty, this great news." Daniel put his hands on her shoulders and smiled with so much more than happiness. He was only barely aware of how much of an idiot he looked with an aching grin on his face, but he couldn't keep it at bay. "I… wow, this is absolutely fantastic news."

Obviously relieved, Betty asked, "Really?"

"You have no idea." Daniel pulled her into a tight hug. He chanced a moment of putting his nose in her hair and tried not let his heart jump out of his chest when she hugged him back fiercely. "You really don't."

* * *

A/N: Reviews are wonderful


	6. Private Property

Fishbowl Vignette VI: Private Property

Daniel fell against the floor with a grateful groan. Above him, Betty chuckled at his dramatizing and nudged a pillow toward him with the toe of paint-speckled sneaker. Fighting with it briefly, Daniel tucked it under his cheek and let out a huge breath of air.

"Feel better now?"

"The fumes should be weaker down here."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're thinking of cooler air during a fire."

"Well, if you light a match and this whole place goes up in flames, at least I'm in the best possible spot."

She chuckled at him again and Daniel responded by glaring with the one eye that peeped over the pillow. He saw her turn back toward the wall, considering it for a brief second before running the roller over one spot and then another. Smiling to himself now, he closed his eyes contentedly. False domesticity or not, he was going to let himself enjoy it as long as possible.

He stayed still as Betty worked around him, protective plastic crackling underfoot. He knew very well that each wall was done and it was only Betty's perfectionism that made her tweak the lampshade in alternating directions and in spots color the accent wall a deeper plum. Plum, not purple, he thought amusedly, she'd taken great offense when he'd said it the wrong way before. That was a first.

This was probably the part where the old Daniel would have whined about Betty's insistence on painting her own loft instead of hiring a decorator like any other rising star at Meade Publications. His hands and arms were dashed and dotted with plum paint, his favorite Armani t-shirt now thoroughly ruined. He was pretty sure his hair was streaked with it as well. The new Daniel only lay on the floor and wondered what it would be like if it were _their _wall they were painting, _their _pillow he was burrowed in, _his _Betty that was taking the advertising world by storm.

"I… think that should be it." He looked up to see Betty put her hands on her hips and stare up at the wall.

"I think that was it about an hour ago." OK, so a little bit of the old Daniel remained.

Betty scrunched her nose at him and moved out of sight. The sound of running water followed, the clinking of plastic and foam and Betty's happy sigh filled his ears. In response, Daniel stood and began gathering up the plastic, making sure to avoid any wet spots that would cling to his newly dry clothes. Even though he was careful, he made sure to check himself over before reclaiming the pillow. Beside it, only a lamp stood in the room, the only things Betty had allowed in her new loft before all the painting was done. Rolling over on his stomach, Daniel looked at the windows before him.

The skyline outside the windows wasn't much to look at, but as Betty said, it was better than the brick wall she used to open her window to. It showed a nice expanse of dark sky, at least; the sun had set over two hours ago, long after they'd started their project, and if he leaned his head a little to the side Daniel could see a part of the waning moon.

The moon, the spread of windows, plum paint in his hair and a happy Betty. There wasn't much more Daniel could ask for, he thought in what he considered a very reasonable way. It was reasonable to be happy for a friend who was moving up in her chosen career, setting off on her own, achieving the goals she'd set for herself. Little things like being in love with said friend shouldn't get in the way of things, or at least that's what he'd been telling himself for the last couple of months.

He jumped a little when Betty dropped like a sack of flour next to him and set the back of her neck against the curve of his back. It was just like her to find what had to be the most neutral part of his body, far enough so he could still turn to see her, but not so far that her head was in the lowest point and near… other things.

"I'm sooo tired," she moaned.

Daniel was also grateful that he was still on his stomach.

"What do you say? We have a whole new set of restaurants that we can judge based on best take out and delivery times."

"Eh, I think I still need to let my stomach settle. From the smell, you know," Daniel replied lamely.

Betty twitched her mouth and nose cutely. "Yeah, I guess. Are you going to give up the pillow?"

"Not a chance."

"Fine, be that way. Good luck trying to get up."

As if he'd even try. "I'd buck you off in two seconds flat."

"Ha, as if you knew how to buck-"

She stopped short, as if only realizing her words and in the split second after, both of them started snorting with laughter.

"That is _not _what I meant to say," Betty said when she recovered her breath.

"Right, right," Daniel wiped at his eye where a tear of laughter had formed. Almost nothing cracked him up as much as when Betty was inadvertently dirty-minded. Despite his feelings for her, and the pleasant thoughts (though generally forbidden, but try convincing his brain of that) that came with them, it still left him feeling strangely awkward. The sensation could at best be connected to when he hit his first big growth spurt at fourteen, the way he had all new lengths of arms and legs and couldn't quite figure out how to function with them without tripping all over the place.

Any other bizarre thoughts of likening Betty to, well, puberty, where halted when the door buzzer rang. Betty lifted up on her elbows and they looked at the door, each other and then back.

"Did you order pad thai with your mind?" Daniel skeptically.

"Please, if I could do that, I'd totally get dumplings," Betty said back before scrambling up. At the door, she pressed the button to respond to her doorman's call.

"There's a delivery here for you, Miss Suarez," said the cultured voice that came back over the intercom.

"Um, okay?" Betty sent another confused look at him over her shoulder. "Should I go down?"

"No, I'll send them up." The voice was unabashedly amused. Daniel guessed he probably didn't realize he was now in contact with a Queens girl who was used to doing her own pushing and pulling and heaving-

Yeah, his mind was in the gutter tonight. Daniel forcefully cleared his throat as Betty walked back to him, her hands tugging at the ends of her hair. "I wonder what that's about. Nothing's supposed to get here for a couple of days. Should I call the moving company?"

"Let's just see what it is," Daniel replied. But he paused as he considered the date and then ran a hand through his paint-streaked hair. "Though, I might have an idea."

Betty leveled a suspicious glance his way. She couldn't ask anything, though, before a knock on the door came. The sight of the rectangle wrapped in brown paper and twine confirmed his guess and Daniel sighed as Betty signed for it. Looking past her at the delivery guy, he said, "You're two days early."

"You wanted it delivered after nine, it had to be during the week," the man said back irritably, his tone indicating that Daniel was lucky to be receiving a delivery at all. God love New York.

He left without a word after Betty gave her last signature and Daniel moved past her to haul up the package and then set it carefully against the only completely dry wall.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?" Daniel gave the offending package an accusing glare before turning to her. "Well, look, I know you said you didn't want a house warming gift, but, well…"

But Betty was staring at the package with an odd look on her face before she looked back at him and said, "The paper says that its from the Scope Gallery."

"Uh, yeah," Daniel drew out uncomfortably. Maybe he hadn't thought this through enough. Then again, he wasn't supposed to be in the loft when it was delivered in the first place.

"Marianna's gallery."

He sighed again and repeated, "Yeah."

"You…" Betty walked over and started pulling at the twine slowly. He noticed how her hands shook slightly, from what he guessed was anticipation. Moving to help her, they silently removed the twine and then Betty slowly pulled back an available tab and revealed the painting beneath.

She took a quick intake of breath and stared for several seconds before saying, "Daniel, this is too much."

"No, it's not," Daniel said immediately. Of this much he was sure. "You got a big promotion. That means a big gift. Period. End of story."

"But, this…" Betty ran her fingers down the frame in awe. Despite the lack of a true New York skyline out her window, the skyline from the bridge, _their _bridge, was now before them, nearly detail for detail. "I always loved this."

"I know," Daniel said quietly.

Betty finally looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "You remembered."

"Come on, you stood and stared at this for half an hour the night of the opening," Daniel said with half a smile. He had to restrain himself from reaching over and touching his thumb under each spread of teary eyelashes. Thankfully, Betty turned back before he could give in, folding her legs into an indian style seat.

"I thought Marianna said the artist didn't want to sell it."

"Well, it took some convincing, but I made him realize that it would go to the only other person who appreciated it as much as he did." A cynic would say that all it took was the check with a healthy sum, but Daniel knew the tide had turned in his favor when he described that night to the artist. The man had given him a sweet, knowing smile and, for once, Daniel hadn't bothered to pretend that the gift was just for a friend. Somewhere out there in the vast expanse of New York, one other person knew how much Daniel loved the woman sitting next to him. It felt nice. It made him feel a little more real.

Betty's sweet expression seemed to freeze with an unspoken thought and he watched her struggle briefly before asking, "Does this mean… I mean, did you see her?"

"Marianna?" Daniel shrugged uncomfortably before saying, "Yeah, but just for a few minutes. She had the contact information."

"How was it." There was an odd, flat note to Betty's voice now, and though her eyes stayed on the painting, Daniel was fairly sure she wasn't looking at it. He couldn't fault her for being on edge, after so many months of declining his ex-fiancée's calls, the dark period following their break up. Somewhere along the way, Betty had moved from quiet support of everyone involved to fierce protection for him alone, never mind that Daniel had never told her why he'd ended it in the first place.

"Not… great," Daniel replied slowly. There wasn't much more to say than that. "But better than I expected."

"Daniel-"

"I'll tell you now, if you want to know."

"You don't have to."

But he wanted to. It would help her understand. It would get that awful tone out of her voice. "I think I do."

Betty simply looked at him. So he told her.

In measured tones, he recounted what had happened over a year before, the story no one knew. On the face of it, the tabloids saw a well-connected couple, Marianna the gallery owner, Daniel the magazine editor, well-matched in pedigree and style. They had photos of a flashy ring (given to him by her father, something he never would have picked, but a family heirloom even he was expected to carry on all the same), and then, suddenly, photos without.

What they hadn't known was how hard Daniel believed himself to have fallen, but how lessons learned in the past had made him take it more slowly. Marianna had been happy to carry a slower pace, too and he'd been thankful for her. They would have kept at it for a long time if only one thing hadn't gotten in the way. Something of the baby variety.

Betty had been aware of this much and nodded slowly, knowing what was coming. At least what she thought she knew. Daniel took a deep breath to ease the resurging ache in his chest and reminded her of the day when he came home to find Marianna crying in the bathroom, a mess in the bed and trailing to the tub where she sat. He'd cried, too, so fiercely that it took him far too long to fully realize what he'd come upon.

Everyone who knew thought it was the loss that tore them apart, their grief that ended the relationship and Daniel had to swallow hard before speaking again. "What I never told anyone was that I was at work a few days later and someone called on Marianna's phone. Do you remember how we thought it'd be funny to get the same cell model?"

Betty nodded. She'd experienced the confusing days when they accidentally switched and she'd been required to run halfway across Manhattan to switch them back. It'd been funny then, but air between them now was tight and brittle.

"I answered it and it was a doctor's office. They were confirming an appointment and it-" Daniel stopped and looked up at the ceiling before saying, "-it wasn't from her regular doctor, the one we'd gone to see on her first appointment. So I looked it up."

He still remembered his shock, the way he'd shut himself in his office for hours, closing the curtains so that no one could see in, so the betrayal wouldn't be on display for everyone's casual appraisal.

"Daniel." He hadn't realized it until now, but his hand was clenched tightly in Betty's. Or was it hers in his?

"I got home and I asked her. She didn't bother to lie, which I guess I have to give her at least a little credit for." Her fingers wrapped in his bolstered him farther. "She was crying because she was relieved, Betty. She said she wasn't ready and things had started going too fast since we'd gotten the news. That losing the baby was a good thing for us."

"So Marianna was going to-"

"She said she hadn't decided yet. A friend of hers had made the appointment and she was waiting until it was closer before deciding. I got her to admit that if she'd gone through with it, she probably wouldn't have told me."

"Oh, Daniel…"

"Needless to say, we were done. I was done. Marianna didn't want to be, but I couldn't stand it. It was too much."

"Of course, of course it was." She pulled her hand from his and then suddenly her cheek was on his shoulder, her arms pulling him closer. Still sitting, she hugged him tightly and Daniel rested his head against hers.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I know it didn't make any sense," Daniel murmured, his voice barely able to work its way out of his dry throat. Betty only shook her head.

They stayed that way a long time. He felt her tears now instead of seeing them, and though his own eyes stung, it was as if he'd done all that he could. Even seeing Marianna hadn't been what he needed to finally let go, apparently. Now, despite all the pain inflicted, Marianna herself was only a footnote. The last step, it seemed, was to tell her. His best friend. The one who left everyone else in the dust. Betty.

And even after they separated, when Betty returned her hand to his, they both sat and looked at the painting for a long time. And even though it was his gift to her, Daniel knew without a doubt, they would both always consider it theirs.


	7. Reasoning

Fisbowl Vignette VII: Reasoning

"Have you heard anything?"

Betty tiredly set the phone on its cradle and glanced back at him. "It looks like Marc and Wilhemina were able to make the last flight before the airport was completely shut down. We, on the other hand…"

"Well, I'm glad they're all right," Daniel finished for her. Collapsing onto the couch, he rubbed at his face before adding, "Don't worry about checking around anymore. Wilhemina can hold down the fort until we get back. God knows she's been waiting long enough for it."

"She only had to get you out of the country to do it," Betty replied with amusement. Seating herself on the winged armchair across from him, she pulled a pillow into her lap and hugged it close. "We can never come to Paris without something going completely wrong, can we?"

Daniel laughed. "Remember getting lost in the Underground last year?"

"I thought Wilhemina was going to kill us."

"Donna Karan almost did."

They settled into giggles and chuckles, respectively. And though his seat was inviting him to stay longer, Daniel purposefully stood up and clapped his hands together. Betty watched as he moved about the room and he smiled as he settled in front of the fireplace.

"Now I haven't been here in a while, but I might remember how to get this going." He perused the kindling set discreetly behind a decorative screen and then searched for the flute release. He'd only been to his family's Parisian apartment a handful of times, but the yearlong staff had kept everything where he remembered. "Can you check the pantry? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of matches in there."

She disappeared through the doors and soon came a few more noises of surprise before Betty came back to the living area with a box of matches. "That is an incredibly well-stocked pantry."

"It has to be, considering how much my mother likes impromptu visits," Daniel explained off-handedly.

"Then why didn't we just stay here instead of the hotel? We could have saved a lot of money. And I'm sure Marc and Amanda's fight over the best bedroom would have been even funnier."

Daniel stopped short after lighting a match. "Oh God, I forgot about Amanda!"

Betty handed him a new match when the one in his hand went out. "Don't worry, I got that, too. She's stuck at the airport, but I pulled some strings and she's happily wrapped up in the VIP lounge."

"Thanks," Daniel said with a sigh of relief. "I'd hate to have lost two assistants in as many months."

"Come on, you didn't lose me." Betty hunched down next to him and helped arrange the kindling that refused to light. "I'm in a different department is all."

"Two whole floors away," Daniel amended. He concentrated hard on lighting the next match. "And don't give me the whole spiel on great opportunities. I sat through it once and it doesn't make me miss you any less."

He saw Betty smile embarrassedly out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn to look at her fully. "I think we can both agree that the advertising position was better suited for me in the long run. Besides, I came to fashion week, just liked you asked. Richmond wasn't thrilled I left him alone three weeks into a full-time position."

"Richmond will learn soon enough that you're indispensable, so I had to take what I could get." Daniel paused and considered his tone; annoyed at himself, he took a breath and added, "Anyway, this was Amanda's first time around fashion week outside of New York. She knows her stuff, but it was a lot to take on right away. We all needed you."

If Betty had noticed anything odd about his demeanor, she didn't give it away. "Well, that's always nice to hear."

She stood and moved back toward the kitchen. "Hungry? I'm sure I can find something to make."

"Knock yourself out."

Several seconds passed with the opening and shutting of cabinet doors before Betty's voice rang out again. "Hey, you never told me why we didn't stay here all week."

Daniel grinned as the fire finally took. Standing up, he dusted off his knees and made his way to the kitchen. "It's too far from the fashion sites. Traffic tends to be terrible around here. Fact is, we were incredibly lucky to get a taxi to bring us over in this weather."

"I'm sure the hundred Euros you gave him certainly helped."

"Well, that too."

Stopping at the entrance to the kitchen, Daniel smiled sadly at the sight of Betty moving around from the fridge to the cabinets and stove. Glad that she was focused on her task, Daniel watched her quietly, resolutely reminding himself of the things he'd said so many times in the last several months.

Well, one of the reasons was gone now. There had been a whole list in the beginning, Reasons Not to Pursue Betty Suarez. Right near the top had been the fact that she had still been his assistant. But the thought of losing her as an assistant was nothing on the fear of losing her as a friend. And friends they were, with Betty never giving him more than a hint of that while so much more remained pent up in his mind.

There were other reasons, of course. They were both very busy people, with the magazine running their lives most of the time, instead of the other way around. Daniel was steadily taking on more responsibilities as the board and his mother divulged them, preparing for his eventual office in the penthouse. Meanwhile, Betty had started an apprenticeship with the advertising department four months before; it had bloomed into a directing position and it had been impossible to pass up, despite how it had felt for Daniel to lose the daily connection.

But most of all, the hardest of the reasons, the most sound, had to do with Betty's precious little experience in relationships. Three boyfriends – one a fiancée – to date; Daniel could count them on one hand. If he tried to count his past relationships, he'd have to use a calculator.

Simply put, Daniel knew he wasn't good enough for Betty. And he never would be.

All the rest of the reasons, the frivolous ones, had fallen to the wayside long before. Daniel could never claim a lack of attraction; the subtle scent of her shampoo was enough to leave him a bit dazed. The smile, the eyes, her voice, it was all catalogued in the part of his brain emblazoned _Happiness_. He'd made up plenty of excuses to touch her, just so he could feel his nerves stand on end. Self-torture, it seemed, turned out to be one of his favorite pastimes.

"Daniel?"

Shaking himself to the realization that Betty had been speaking, Daniel said, "Sorry, I missed that. What?"

"I was wondering which you'd prefer." Betty presented the frozen packages in her hands. Daniel tapped at the chicken filets and smiled apologetically. Betty gave him a curious glance before opening the package. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I think it's just been a long day." Daniel tried to inject some tiredness into his voice and added a sigh on the end as an afterthought. "We have so much to take care of when we finally get back. My brain just feels, you know, crazy all the time now. "

"With what?"

"Oh, you know, picking out the right photos for the spread-"

"Beside the regular stuff. What's making it worse?"

Daniel shook his head. "It's not that big a deal."

The look she gave him was one he had seen before and Daniel couldn't help but smile slightly in reply. She wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"It's not something I really want to talk about, at least," Daniel offered. Rubbing at his neck, he said, "It'd bore you, I'm sure."

"You know it wouldn't," Betty assured him. She gave him a level look before fiddling with the buttons on the stove. "What if I guess?"

"Betty-"

"I'll go for the easiest and say it's a girl." Betty paused to mix a marinade to use on the chicken, missing how Daniel shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Of course, it's been a while since that's come in to play. Unless…"

She trailed off and gave him a suspicious glance. "Have you met someone?"

"Me? Oh, no. God, no, no one to speak of, absolutely not."

"Oh, that's convincing."

Daniel moved fully into the kitchen and hopped up to sit on the counter. "Believe me, if there was someone new, I'd tell you." As if _that_ would ever happen. "What… what about you?"

"Me?" Betty laughed skeptically. "Yeah, right."

"You make it sound impossible." Daniel tried to keep his voice even, unaffected, but it was difficult. There was one thing, just one thing, that he would want Betty to change – the way she looked at herself. Why was she always her own biggest critic?

"Taking a break from guys has seemed like the smartest thing to do as of late," Betty replied. "After canceling the wedding…"

"Betty, I'm positive there's more out there for you," Daniel said earnestly. Heaven knew why he was willingly playing Devil's Advocate, but there he was. "You just have to give it a chance."

She shrugged. "When all the times you've tried have been a disaster, it's easy to not want to get back into it, I guess. It's easier to stay clear entirely."

"They weren't all disasters, were they?" Daniel had had front-row seats to them all and while Walter and the last one hadn't ended remotely well, there was still… "What about Henry?"

"Henry." The corner of her mouth rose in a half-smile, the kind Betty made when she remembering something that was a regretful mixture of fondness and hurt, all at the same time. "Ok, so that may not have disaster written all over it, but it could have gone much better."

Masochism has nothing on Daniel Meade. "What's that?""

"We tried. Over and over, we tried and something always got in the way." She stopped messing with filets, covered them and pushed the pan onto a back burner at low heat. Moving across from Daniel, she pushed herself up on the counter and brushed away the hair that had fallen in her face. "You know how it was, even after I finally ended things with Walter. I had a weekend off, he had to work, he made a date, I had to fly to the Keys to help Wilhemina out."

"I forgot about that," Daniel said softly.

"My first time on a plane," Betty mused sadly. "And I was flying away from him."

Daniel leaned back against the raised cabinets. Betty had that faraway look on her face, one he expected to last a while, but she emerged from it more quickly than he expected.

"It always happened like that," she finally finished. "Somewhere in there we had three good months and then everything else got in the way again. After a while, we just finally got the hint. It wasn't time for us, if it ever would be."

"Do you still think there can be?" Daniel hated himself for holding his breath.

"Considering he's getting married pretty soon, I doubt it." It surprised him that Betty could say it so lightly and it showed on his face because she said, "Come on, Daniel, you couldn't expect the guy to pine away for me, especially since I'd gotten engaged, too."

"Maybe I think you're pine-worthy," Daniel said back with a smile.

Betty laughed loudly. "Like an entire forest or just one of those little car fresheners?"

"A forest," Daniel said on a chuckle. "A majestic forest."

"You're sweet, Daniel." Betty reached over from where she was perched and gave the pan a shake. "When you say stuff like that, it makes me miss you even more."

Surprised, Daniel asked, "You miss me?"

Betty gave him a wide-eyed look. "Of course I do," she answered sincerely. As if Betty could do anything _without_ sincerity. "Richmond's nice in his own way, but he'll never be a friend like you've been."

Daniel tried not to smile too stiffly. "Thanks."

"So what do you want to the side? We've only got canned stuff, but it's the good, French canned stuff. Or are they jars?" Betty jumped off the counter and started looking through the pantry again, unaware of how Daniel's eyes followed her, resigned and hurt to a ridiculous degree. Ridiculous to Daniel, at least. They were friends; this was not news.

"You pick," Daniel said distantly.

"Anyway, was I right? Is there a girl in there somewhere?" Betty emerged from the pantry and smiled in his direction.

Daniel was still somewhere far off, chastising himself. He barely heard her. When Betty finally got his attention, he asked, "Excuse me? I mean, no. Really."

"Is it because… is it because of what happened?" Betty gave him a searching look as she drew nearer. Daniel stayed in place until he realized she was trying to get to the can opener beside him.

Inching sideways, he replied, "With Marianna? No, that's ancient history. Believe me."

"There hasn't been anyone since then, not that I've seen," Betty said. She opened the cans as she spoke, her gaze down. "It's been more than a year, Daniel. A lot of that could be chalked up to hurt, but it's dangerous to hide yourself away."

"I don't see you open to something new." It came out much too sharply and Betty raised her alarmed eyes to his. Flustered, Daniel said, "That... wasn't fair-"

"No, you're right, I can't accuse you of holding back when I have, too" Betty said softly. She stopped opening the cans and set her hands flat on the counter. "Fact is, I'm not sure what to do when it comes to all that, not anymore. And when I start to think that I do, it doesn't make any sense. And I wish it did because then it would be so much easier. Why does it have to be so complicated? Then I wonder, how am I making it complicated when it's just me and my thoughts? And of course-"

She stopped and blinked quickly, as if only just seeing her audience. "Well, the short version is, I don't know. "

"Well, neither do I," Daniel lied.

"And I shouldn't jump all over you for being in the same boat." Betty brought her eyes back to his; they pinned him down in ways she was never aware of. "Truce?"

Daniel nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Truce."

"I hate arguing with you."

"That barely qualified as an argument."

"Anything that qualifies as an argument with you is something I don't want," Betty clarified. "I like having you on my side."

"Well, I like having you on mine, too."

They exchanged smiles, the air in the room drastically different from only moments before. A silence fell between them, one only slightly uncomfortable, where the uncertainty seeped away minute by minute. Unable to think of a reason for discretion, Daniel's eyes followed Betty around the room; she politely refused his help when he offered, so he ended staying on the counter until their dinner was nearly done.

He was reaching into the cabinets beside him for plates when Daniel finally said, "I owe a lot to you, especially when it came to Marianna."

Betty didn't answer.

"It took a while, longer than I thought was possible," he added. "I think it was because I was so careful with her. Tried to do it right and I still…"

"Got hurt," Betty finished quietly.

"Yeah."

"I understand."

"I know you do."

Daniel finally got down off the counter and began looking for the silverware. Keeping himself busy he said, "If I did it again, Betty, I don't know what I'd do if it didn't work out. There's only so many times you can put yourself on the line. I really… I really don't think I'd make it if things went bad again. And with my run of luck when it comes to relationships, it just seems wisest to stay clear."

To speak so plainly was nerve-wracking, but he took comfort in the movements of his hands, how he placed the forks on the table, found napkins and folded them carefully. This was the closest he could come to saying it to her, to explain why he couldn't say how much she meant to him. But perhaps he'd just stumbled on the biggest reason of them all. When it came down to it, maybe he'd known all along that Betty Suarez could be the one to completely finish him off if he gave her the chance. If he gave himself the chance.

"You're more than you're giving yourself credit for, Daniel." From the sound of her voice, he could tell Betty was right behind him. "You're… you. You have so much, such a beautiful heart and a strong mind, the way you care about others, I mean, I know how you treat me, how much we mean to each other and… you're Daniel. I don't know how else to say it."

He had to swallow hard before saying, "I do care about you."

There. He'd said enough.

"I know."

"No, Betty." Finally he turned. And it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be. Because he got it right then, Daniel finally got it. If Betty would be the one to finish him, shouldn't at least he be able to say that he'd tried?

She had moved back to the middle of the kitchen while she'd been speaking. Her arms were tight across her stomach and she kept her eyes down. There was a red flush in her cheeks and Daniel-

He was across the room before he knew it, instinct commanding his movements, the movements that put his hands to her face, raised her chin and there was no way he could get out of it. Daniel didn't want to be out of it.

If he surprised her by the fierceness of the kiss, it couldn't be undone. Daniel's hands splayed across both her cheeks, the heat growing underneath his fingertips and Betty…

She was kissing him back.

_Betty was kissing him back._

Heady from all the sensations that were making his head spin, Daniel could only find ground in pressing one hand in her hair and reaching down to her waist to bring her closer with the other. Betty's hands fluttered against his before they settled at his shoulders and a brief thought flashed in his mind, thankful that the braces were long gone because otherwise all these indescribable discovery of soft lips and tongue would have been painfully paused and he couldn't open his eyelids because they'd gone heavy, but Betty was making small sounds at the back her throat _and he just couldn't stop_.

"Daniel."

She retreated slightly, not enough to break the clench they'd found themselves in. Just enough to put a breath of air between their faces, breath Daniel had barely realized would be necessary if he wanted to kiss her again. And he did, without end.

"Daniel," she said his name again on a bare gasp of air and it was quite possibly the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. "We need-"

"I've got to do it," Daniel said gutturally. The words came out with his permission, but there was no use trying to contain them. "I have to try. I don't deserve you, but I can't-"

"But we… Daniel, its Paris, and you're lonely, and it's stress," Betty stammered. He could feel her pulse pounding under his fingers.

And just like that, he realized that Betty had a list of her own.

"No, Betty." He set his forehead against hers. "It's you."

Such simple words, but that was all they needed. He caught Betty's newly determined expression, and in it was something he couldn't describe that belonged to only them. _Them_. Daniel nearly laughed out of pure giddiness, out of absolute joy. Never in his life had he known it could be that way and it was all because of her.

"It's you," he repeated.

* * *

A/N: Just the epilogue left, something new to the entire series. Please leave a review and let me know what you think.


	8. Lead the Way

Fishbowl Vignette VIII: Lead the Way

Their jet plane, with its pair of first class seats and complimentary champagne, left without them. And as Daniel lay against Betty's warm form and listened to her breathing deeply, he couldn't find a reason to give a damn.

It hadn't been long since she'd fallen asleep, but enough time had passed that weak light was filtering through the curtains, so that he could see the curve of her shoulder as he pressed his lips to it. Though he was sure he should have been exhausted, Daniel couldn't keep his eyes closed for long, his need to just be awake with her, to just see her there, curled up against him was too great.

An eerie calm had come over him and that was what unnerved him the most, as if he should have been anticipating everything that could go wrong the moment Betty woke up, working out the words he would need in case with awakening came regrets. But that blind panic fought against a certainty that had come with the night, that the night itself wouldn't have happened if Betty hadn't wanted it, too.

He was giving himself a headache. Sighing heavily, he dropped his head against the nape of her neck.

"Daniel?" It was a distant murmur, sleep-heavy and soft.

"Hmm?"

She placed her hand over his and pressed on it so he held her closer.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And just like that, he was finally able to sleep.

* * *

They tucked themselves away for the rest of the day and into the night, mostly surviving on soup and ice cream because the soup was the quickest to warm up in the microwave and, well, they both liked ice cream and it was there.

Little time was taken to make arrangements for their return to New York, for Betty to call her family and explain they had been snowed in and for Daniel to message Wilhelmina that she could call the shots for a day or two more. They told no one that the streets were already beginning to clear, or that they'd purposefully passed up three perfectly good flights out for one late the following day.

Time instead was devoted to being alone, being them, Daniel flat on his back in bed and laughing while Betty, wrapped in a duvet and waving around a spoon, gave him a spot on imitation of Anna Wintour, then used his spoon with hers to make giant glasses against her eyes. He learned the spot low on her left side that made her giggle with just a stroke. Pillows were tossed haphazardly across the room and bowls clattered to the floor. They enjoyed being together without secrets shoved between them. They slept and woke and did it all over again.

"How did you know?"

It was near three in the morning and they were sharing the last bowl of mint chocolate, spoons clattering as they each jockeyed for the last of the melting mass. Daniel gave in and let Betty have it and she gave him a sweet smile as she brought it up to her lips.

"That I wanted to be with you?" He watched as she licked the spoon clean and then used the back of her fingers to check for chocolate smears. There was a little one high on her left cheek, probably his fault, but it made Daniel smile too much to point it out. "It happened while ago. Months. There just came a point where I realized that being with you made up the best parts of my day. But I think that's when I was able to put words to it. I have a feeling that it was probably longer, when I was too much of an idiot to see what was going on."

"Don't say that," Betty said seriously. "What would that make me, for taking so long to see it myself?"

"When did you?"

"The night in my apartment, when you were… telling me…" she trailed off.

Daniel's eyebrows rose high.

"Even before you told me, it bothered me that you had seen her again. It was this weird, completely irrational wave of jealousy. And when you explained what had happened, I just… wanted to… tear her apart limb by limb for doing that to you," a fierce look came over Betty's face, "and all I could think was that you deserved better, that you would make a wonderful father and husband and you should have your chance at that."

"I remember you crying."

Betty pushed her hair back over one shoulder, toyed with it. "It scared me, because my next thought was that I wanted it to be _me_. It was insane to even think it, but I knew. But I didn't know what it would mean, if you would even want me."

Daniel reached forward and entwined his fingers with hers. "I kept trying to convince myself that I wasn't good enough for you."

"I guess that makes us both idiots then."

With his other hand, Daniel brushed the chocolate off her cheek. "I guess so."

* * *

They walked silently, Betty's arm tucked into his, their feet making a slow path through melting snow. It was only a few hours before they had to arrive at the airport and Betty had jimmied him out of bed with a promise of fresh air and actual food. Daniel been ready to decline both for more time alone with her when his stomach growled loudly and Betty threw back her head in delighted laughter.

Far from the main hustle and bustle of Paris, on tiny streets with smaller sidewalks, they left each other to quiet thoughts. Gone was Daniel's momentary panic, instead an assuredness that the difficulties awaiting them in New York would be in everyone else's adjustment to their relationship. As far as he and Betty were concerned, what they had waited so long for, had tried to deny themselves, was finally a reality and with it came the happiest hours either had ever experienced.

Really, it amused Daniel to think of the reactions they would encounter. Something told him, however, that his mother would probably be thrilled after the initial shock. Then again, she was a smart woman, so maybe she'd known before they had.

"What's that smile for?" Betty tipped her face up to his and Daniel shrugged.

"It just crossed my mind that maybe we were the last to know."

Betty squinted and then grinned, "There's a good chance of that."

"We are so stubborn, I shudder to think how bad our kids will be."

"Maybe we'll teach them to know better."

"I certainly hope so."

Suddenly he was dragged back by his arm, Betty's still figure stopping his movement.

"Betty?"

She gave him a wide eyed look. "Kids?"

"Yeaaah," he drew out, just as surprised as their quick turn of conversation, "too soon?"

Even as Daniel watched, her startled expression began to clear and a gentle look replaced it. "No, I don't think so."

Despite the cold around them, Daniel felt something warm spread in his chest. "Good. We probably won't mention that to our parents for a while, though."

"That would be wise," Betty said smiling.

But they returned to silence instead of saying anything further. Daniel left Betty to her thoughts, though his jumped ahead to tiny daughters with her dark eyes and his childhood freckles. He thought of a son he could name after Alex that he would put his faith in, no matter how much it was tested. Glimpses of the future danced before him in his mind's eye and Daniel knew that no matter how happy he thought himself capable to be, Betty had the ability to bring out even more.

They ducked in and out of shops at random, sometimes holding hands as they went from one aisle to another, sometimes separating but following each other's movements, coming together at the exit so they could move on. At one point, with the minutes ticking down to their departure, Betty stepped outside to call for their car; he smiled at her though the window as she gave the driver their exact location. All he would have been able to do was vaguely describe the shop they were in as full of antiques, and those had to be a dime a dozen in Paris.

He watched her for several moments before his gaze was tugged down. Daniel should have known he'd somehow find himself in this exact spot, so fitting to how everything had fallen into place in a matter of days. He looked at the display case before him and saw the only missing piece.

Minutes later, he stepped out of the shop to find Betty shutting her phone off and sighing. "The flight is still on schedule. Is it wrong to wish we could stay here for, you know, forever?"

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Daniel drew her close. "I think it has less to do with the place than this right here."

She rested her hands on his arms and caught his gaze. "You're right, but it was a good start, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Pretty soon we'll have work, our schedules might clash, we'll definitely clash-"

"Making up will totally be worth it-"

She laughed and Daniel set his forehead against hers. Betty closed her eyes, her face so peaceful it made him ache.

"Betty, I love you."

Her eyes opened and the joy he found there made his heart beat faster.

"I love you too, Daniel."

It was better than the whispered words over the last day and a half, from the first time he'd said it against her ear, how she'd grabbed his hand as he stroked her cheek and said it back for what had to be the tenth. It was so much that though he'd made vague plans to wait just a little longer, Daniel instead pulled away from Betty and dropped down. He fumbled in his pocket as he went to one knee, pulled out his purchase from its simple brown bag and presented it to her.

Betty's expression ran from shock to sweetness and back again as Daniel said, "Let's fight and think of names of kids and drive our assistants insane trying to make it all work even when we sometimes have to be in completely different parts of the world."

Though her hands were now at her mouth, Betty's eyes showed her smile.

"Let's stop being idiots and make this a great start, Betty. Marry me."

Dropping her hands, with a sure voice, Betty said, "Of course I will."

"Good, because there's still snow down here and I'm _freezing_."

"Then stand up!" Laughing, Betty helped him stand and then watched as he slid the ring onto her left hand. Awed, she said, "It fits."

"I had a feeling it would."

"Daniel…"

He kissed her then, because he knew, just like she had known the morning before. It was the moment they needed to remind themselves that it was real. They were real. They were Daniel and Betty and exactly as they needed to be.

Betty burrowed her head against his chest when he stopped to take a breath and he set his lips against the top of her head and watched as their car approached. In a moment, they would get in, soon be on a plane, and thereafter be back in a completely different New York.

Just as they needed to be.

"Come on," Daniel said as he nudged Betty's chin up and kissed her once more and knew her own moment of fear had passed. "Let's go home."

She laced her fingers with his and said, "Lead the way."

* * *

A/N: Many, many thanks to all who have reviewed. This story took three years to really finish and I'm thankful to have you here with it. I'm sad that UB is also coming to an end, but I'm glad many of us can come in with our own ideas and hopes for what is and what could have been. (By the by, there are two slightly odd follow ups to the FV that will be posted within a week or two - they don't feature Daniel and Betty specifically, but do describe what awaits them back in NYC.) Thank you for reading.


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